


Home is Where the Heart is (And We're All Just Fucked)

by AmyTheEleventh



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Controlling Behavior, Dark!Matt, Emotional Manipulation, Established Relationship, M/M, Possessive Behavior, possessive!Matt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 20:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7589599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyTheEleventh/pseuds/AmyTheEleventh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“One day you’ll learn to listen to me,” The Devil murmurs gently, pulling Foggy into his arms. “Until then… What’s my night without having to rescue you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home is Where the Heart is (And We're All Just Fucked)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not clever enough to write something witty here at 2 AM, so - blah, blah, general disclaimer, blah blah, I don't own anything, blah blah, not beta read.

“Now look what you’ve made me do, darling.” 

Foggy blanches. He’s in no way responsible for this. “I didn’t ask for this,” he protests, wiggling against the ropes that bind his hands and pointedly ignoring the pile of bodies on the floor behind The Devil. The smell of blood is harder to ignore. 

“If you had only left work on time, as I said,” The Devil tsks, stepping carefully over to where Foggy is confined to the chair. 

“We had files to go over!” The Devil just tsks again, skillfully un-knotting the ropes at Foggy’s wrists then moving so they’re face to face.

“One day you’ll learn to listen to me,” The Devil murmurs gently, pulling Foggy into his arms. “Until then… What’s my night without having to rescue you?” Foggy frowns but accepts The Devil’s gentle kiss anyway. 

-

Foggy was hoping for a quiet walk home, but he should know by now that he’s never alone.

“And where are you off to in such a hurry?” Foggy just sighs, stopping in his tracks and turning on the spot. 

“Home, actually,” he responds, but the words are slurred a bit. He can see The Devil wrinkle his nose. 

“You’ve been drinking, darling,” he says in distaste, and pauses before his says, “With Detective Mahoney.” 

“I hate that smell thing,” Foggy comments. 

“I hate it when you smell like stale coffee and industrial floor cleaner.” 

“What would you rather me smell like then?” Foggy regrets asking as soon as that mischievous smirk crosses The Devil’s lips, and before he knows it he’s being crushed to his chest, the man’s nose running along his jawline before his lips settle below Foggy’s ear. 

“I’m so glad you asked. Let’s get you home.” 

-

Foggy’s exhausted, but he doesn’t exactly get a chance to rest that night, even after they’re done (really done, not just-let-me-kiss-you-darling done); The Devil seems intent on memorizing every inch of Foggy’s body with his fingers as if it’s not something he’s done a hundred times already. And Foggy loves the attention, but he’s just - fuck, he’s  _ exhausted _ . 

“Stop,” he mumbles, knocking their foreheads together. The Devil purrs, leaning up for another kiss. 

“Mine,” he murmurs against Foggy’s lips. “Don’t you dare forget that.” Foggy just sighs; how could he ever forget the claim The Devil’s laid on him?

“Never.” 

-

Foggy doesn’t like how familiar this scene has become: him, coming into his apartment after a night out with Karen; The Devil, standing by the couch with his arms crossed and a sour, disapproving look on his face. 

“Not this again-” 

“I don’t like it when you’re out late.” All Foggy can do is sigh. His Devil gets a little too possessive sometimes. It’s less endearing and more annoying. 

“I’m a grown man,” Foggy says, but there’s no heat there. They’ve had this argument before, he’s got it down to a script. 

“You know how dangerous these streets are,” The Devil says, and he sounds angry. Just as impassioned as ever. “I’ve told you a hundred times-” 

“Excuse me for wanting to spend time with my friend in a setting that doesn’t involve case files,” Foggy jumps in, voice neutral. 

“But why do you have to do it so  _ late _ ?” Foggy just shrugs. 

“Josie’s gets interesting after midnight.” 

“No more late nights,” The Devil says without hesitation. “Not until I’ve figured out what’s going on… I can't risk you getting hurt.” His voice gets soft there at the end and so does Foggy. He can't really be mad. 

“... Okay,” he concedes quietly. “Alright, fine. No late nights for a while.” Foggy wonders if The Devil’s sweet smile is worth what he’s giving up. 

-

It doesn’t frighten Foggy anymore when The Devil comes through his window at two AM, waking him from a dead sleep. He’s won the heart of The Devil Himself, what else has he got to be afraid of? 

“Hello, darling.” 

“Humph.” Foggy doesn’t actually respond, but he pushes the covers back and scoots to the far side of the bed to make room. The Devil strips quickly and efficiently, and if Foggy was less tired he’d roll over to appreciate the sight: a tight body littered in scars both old and new, now dressed in nothing but black briefs with a mop of brown hair flopping over blank eyes that still convey nothing but emotion. The bed dips quickly and then Foggy lets himself be pulled against his chest, rearranging himself so he can get back to sleep. 

“How was your day, my love?” Foggy makes an irritated little noise. The Devil just chuckles, nosing into Foggy’s hair. “Darling…” 

“Sleep,” Foggy responds, and he means it to sound clipped but it comes out weak and groggy. The Devil laughs again, and Foggy feels his warm breath for a moment as The Devil breathes him in and back out. 

“Is your dear little friend angry with me?” The Devil asks, curious. It was an accident, a conversation he heard in passing while heading home from his own job and passing Foggy’s office. 

_ “That’s ridiculous!”  _

_ “It’s just for a couple weeks, Karen, until whatever’s happening in this weird ass city blows over-” _

_ “He’s trying to keep you locked away, Foggy-" _

“Why would she be?” Foggy grumbles, and The Devil smirks. 

“You know why.” And when Foggy doesn’t respond, he continues with a little sigh. “She’s not wrong, I suppose. I’d keep you locked up in  _ my _ apartment day in and day out if I could get away with it. How lovely you’d be to come home to, darling… My sweet pet.”    
Foggy falls asleep with those words echoing in his ears. He finds the whole situation ironic: he’s only just starting to wonder what he’s gotten himself into when it’s already too late to back out. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure what to say about this. I've been dealing with some stuff, so I thought, why not take my confusion and issues and displace it onto something harmless like fanfiction? Also I wanted to post some more Dark!Matt while I worked on the second part for my Does He Know The Way I Worship series (because I'm definitely working on it. It may take a while, but I'm definitely working on it). On that note, thank you to everyone that read that, and also this. 
> 
> Title from 27 by Fall Out Boy. 10/10.


End file.
